


Ghosts

by holyfudgebars



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: -shrugs-, Anal Fingering, Angst, I'm sorry I did this, M/M, Masturbation, i'm a sadist, lookit me go, this is just a chapter fic now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2018-08-22 08:56:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8280175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holyfudgebars/pseuds/holyfudgebars
Summary: McCree has a run in with Reaper and he almost falls into the web of promises spun by the man he once loved. Memories of his ex-mentor and lover McCree had desperately buried within himself threaten to spill over after the encounter and he indulges in them desperate for comfort.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just some shameless smut I wrote at a friend's request. \\(*'u'*)/  
>  _italicized_ \- Indicates Gabriel speaking in Spanish.

“You good kid?”

McCree's eyes moved to look at Commander Morrison, Soldier 76, staring at him from behind his visor. McCree needed to stop slipping up on that, Jack Morrison was technically dead and buried. The cowboy moved his still living hand from where it lay limply at his side to his neck, to ghost fingers over the bruises and scratches already forming on his throat. He stared vacantly at the wisps of smoke still lingering in the air trying to ignore the growing ache between his legs. He was pulled from his trance as Jack's voice cut through the haze in his mind.

“Jesse?!” He jumped at the sound of his given name being barked from the other man's mouth and swallowed, pushing himself off the wall. He forced a reassuring smile towards his old commander and tipped his hat towards him, trying desperately to ignore his cock half hard in his pants.

“I'm alright naw, it'll take more than that to do me in.” 76 watched McCree move past him, silent as the younger man limped. The walk back to the dropship was a silent one.

Memories assaulted him on the ship ride back to Gibraltar and McCree kept his eyes hidden beneath the brim of his hat, feigning sleep, ignoring the way 76's eyes stayed on him. It was supposed to be a simple reconnaissance mission, this never should have happened. He could still feel the smoke coiling around him before he processed what was happening. The sharp blow to his ribs, breaking one and knocking his breath from him as he hit the alley wall. A gasp left his lips before that clawed gauntlet closed around his throat. The other squeezed his wrist till the bones in it cracked and he dropped his revolver.

He was dizzy, unable to get a breath, unsure of what was happening, until he heard the laughter that haunted most of his dreams of the past and what could have been. Laughter rough and growling with amusement, sending a familiar rumble through his body that went right between his thighs. He forced his eyes to focus and felt them widen in fear, excitement, as he came face to face with that smooth white mask, staring into the endless expanse of black where a pair of eyes that could have stared down the sun used to reside.

Instinct kicked in and McCree felt his leg attempt to kick out in a desperate attempt to escape, only to have an armored knee dig into the sensitive flesh of his thigh forcing a strangled cry from his lips. He heard a tongue click in disappointment from behind the mask and McCree felt his teeth bite down on his lip as the mask moved closer to his ear.

“You've always been so impatient Jesse. You never were good as waiting.” His dick twitched in response as Reaper purred Spanish harshly into his ear and he suppressed the shudder that threatened to overtake his body as McCree heard his name leave the mouth of the man before him. The claws around his throat loosened enough for a proper breath to be taken and he gulped down the air like a drowning man.

“Fuck. You.” McCree managed to spit out between panting breaths only to quickly regret it as that damned dream haunting laughter started back up.

“That's not how I remember it going Jesse. I'm certain there was only one was of us getting fucked.” The knee in McCree's thigh removed itself only to press his legs apart. A startled grunt left him as Reaper's knee pressed up and against his crotch, grinding against it. “I'm also certain is was you.” McCree's breath hitched as the words whispered in his ear went screaming though his mind, and he fought the urge not to rock his hips down against the knee between his legs.

The hand around his throat tightened again as the mask pressed against his neck. Reaper's breath could be felt sliding through the mask and along McCree's skin and his resolve broke. McCree rocked his hips down against Reaper's knee and tried his hardest to ignore his former mentor's breathy chuckles.

“I've missed you Jesse, it's not too late, we still have a chance.” Despite his mask Reaper might as well have been whispering into directly McCree's ear. It was tempting, he'd be lying if he said it wasn't. There had been some nights where McCree would have killed to have this voice whispering to him like this and here he was spinning promises out of the silk of his words like he had done when they had first met. “What have they ever done for us anyway?”

Reaper didn't notice the way McCree tensed after posing his question and was taken by surprise as the cowboy slammed their foreheads together. Neither man got a chance to react as a bullet flew past the spot where Reaper's cloaked head was a moment ago.

“Let him go.”

Both men turned their heads, startled, and stared at Soldier 76 standing at the end of the alley, gun trained on Reaper.

“Make me Morrison.” Time itself seemed to slow to a crawl after Reaper's declared his words with a snarl evident behind the mask in the way his words tore from behind the mask. 76's finger tightened around the trigger of his rifle as Reaper shoved himself off the wall and away from McCree, the bullets from the rifle whizzing narrowly by the cowboy. 76 followed Reaper with his rile, gunfire unrelenting as the specter turned his body to mist and smoke. Laughter dark and gruff scrapped along the alley walls as Reaper retreated further down the narrow street, unfazed by the gunfire, and 76 sprinted forward after him.

He slowed to a stop as Reaper disappeared from sight and waited a few moments listening to the silent street with McCree's heavy breaths the only sound disturbing the night. Lowering his rifle 76 straightened up, satisfied that Reaper had left the area after being faced with potentially being outnumbered. The visor's red light turned its line of sight toward McCree causing the younger man to swallow and shift nervously as 76's gaze traveled downward-

“Arriving in 5 minutes loves!”

McCree jumped in surprise, jerked from his thoughts, as Tracer's voice chimed on over the PA system of the dropship. He pushed his hat back into place and stretched his arms in front of him, a yawn slipping past his lips.

“You enjoy your nap big guy?” Lucio smiled brightly from where he sat across from McCree a few seats down, turned halfway in his chair so his legs stretched across the empty seat next to him. “You were out like a light, I was about to start playing some tunes to get you movin.” McCree tipped his hat and offered Lucio a smile, ignoring 76's gaze still burning him into his seat.

“I appreciate the concern partner,” he unbuckled himself from the seat as the ship settled into Gibraltar's courtyard, “but I reckon I'll be just fine after I get some rest.” McCree gave the DJ one last smile and stood from his ship as soon as the door opened. Winston stood outside the dropship but McCree made no move to stop his strides, quickly slipping past what would have been a mission report with a “Howdy” and a nod. Winston could get the details of the mission for the rest of the team for all McCree cared right now. Legs refusing to cease their movement, he continued his single minded mission towards his rooms. He managed to dodge around Angela and her concern, knowing now was not the best time for an after mission physical, and he completely avoided the hallway he saw Reinhardt's massive form standing in. He reached his room and quickly ducked into as heavy footsteps began to round the corner at the end of the hall. McCree's back pressed against the door to his room as it slid shut behind him and he guided his gaze downward, leveling it as his traitorous crotch that had stiffened all over again on the ride back as he recalled what had happened.

“Fuck.” The hiss left his throat as his hand quickly undid his ornate belt buckle, the other throwing his sherpa, shirt, and hat to the side. He grunted as his calloused hand found it's way around his hard member and he fell back onto his cot. Hips wiggling, McCree managed to push his pants, along with his underwear, around his knees and he jerked at himself while reliving Reaper's voice whispering in his ear.

“I've missed you Jesse”

His hand squeezed himself tighter and he bucked his hips up into it, remembering the way Reaper-. No, no not Reaper, Gabriel. Gabriel the man who lived a blazing fire that even death couldn't put out. The man before all this was the one who would embrace him after missions, dragging them both down empty corridors towards either of their rooms, stumbling and desperate for each other.

Reaper was a ghost and so McCree chose to remember Gabriel.

He remembered the way Gabriel would bite at his throat and the bruises in the shape of his mouth that would be left behind along his collarbone, hidden beneath his uniform the next day. The way Gabriel would shove him against the wall after a rough mission and grind his hard dick against McCree's ass.

“I need you Jesse”

A whimper of need left McCree's throat. He glanced at his metal arm and sighed in frustration as he shoved two of his fingers into his mouth. His tongue rolled in between the metal digits before removing them from his mouth with a final suck. He reached down and slid a finger between his spread thighs. Pressing the tip of his finger to his entrance without hesitation, McCree's dick twitched as his finger slid inside of himself. A gasp left his mouth, his chest rising with the sudden intake of air, and he bit down on his lip to quite any further noises from himself as he pushed a second finger inside to join the first. He allowed his eyes to slid shut, picturing Gabriel in between legs sliding to him as McCree pushed yet another finger inside himself. He could feel Gabriel's rough hands squeezing his hips and he rolled them down onto Gabe's imaginary cock, panting as he pumped his dick in time with his desperate grinding onto his fingers.

“We still have a chance.”

A strangled cry forced its way from his throat and McCree's fingers curled inside of himself as he spilled his seed onto his bare stomach. One breathe and then another and McCree forced himself to come down as he relaxed onto his cot throwing his arm over his face, his fingers on the other hand sliding out of himself. He took another shaky breath and blinked back the burning tears hiding behind his arm. There was no such thing as still having a chance.  
Gabriel was dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'll most likely do a chapter with Reaper's POV too (if any one wants it anyway).


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their encounter in the alley Reaper finds his thoughts preoccupied with McCree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Since quite a few people seemed to enjoy this oneshot, I've decided to just turn it into a full blown fic! *Warning: this fic will most likely have a tragic ending*

Heavy dull thumps echoed off of the walls of Talon's training facility. Reaper stood in front of a swinging punching bag, panting underneath the black hoodie he wore to as an alternative to his hooded field uniform. Gloved hands reached out to steady the bag and he pressed his forehead against the rough fabric.

“Let him go.”

Reaper could still hear Morrison, “Soldier 76”, demanding him let McCree go. It had been a damn week since he saw them, how long was he going to be hung up on this? A snarl ripped from his covered mouth and his fist collided abruptly with the punching bag, sending it flying into the air from the force. The bag swung back and Reaper planted a bare foot onto the mat he stood on, pivoting on it and slamming the shin of his other leg into the side of the bag as he swung back around. The chain suspending it broke and the bag flew, crashing loudly into the wall next to the doorway. Falling helplessly to the floor, the bag slumped over as the door next to it slid open and Reaper turned his attention to the intruder, eyes narrowed into a glare from beneath his balaclava. His gaze settled on the slim figure of his “partner” standing there with her arms crossed and her face stoic save for an eyebrow raised in his direction.

“Frustrated?” Her words made smooth by her accent were accompanied by a mocking smirk and it took everything he was not to launch himself at her and start a fight.

“Fuck off, Widowmaker.” She nudged her foot against the remains of the bag, while leaning on the door frame and shrugged indifferent to his biting tone.

“Either way, we have a debriefing to attend.” They had both decided when they first started working together that they wouldn't use the other's real name. Her name meant nothing to her and his meant too much. Reaper watched Widowmaker push herself off of where she leaned and moved to follow her without a word as she left.

The walk towards the debriefing room was a quiet one and Reaper found himself yet again, slipping into thoughts about Jesse. He could still feel his hand around McCree's throat and hear the way the younger man held back moans from where he was pinned in place on the alley wall. His eyes betrayed nothing to those passing him in the hallway and he remembered how McCree had rolled his hips against his knee, desperate for friction. Reaper was so close to having him back, he would have fucked him against the wall and taken McCree back by his side where he belonged. Morrison just had to go and play the hero didn't he.

Widowmaker peered over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow at Reaper and his grimmer than usual demeanor behind her. He grunted in response but said nothing and she rolled her eyes as they entered the debriefing room. 

The meeting was short, to the point and the two of them were out as fast as they entered.

“I'll see you on the copter.” Widowmaker said with a half wave as she turned in the direction of her quarters and Reaper nodded at her in acknowledgement heading towards his own rooms. They were headed to Hanamura for the next fortnight at least. The two of them were to observe and infiltrate Shimada Castle, breaking into their system and obtaining a copy of all their ongoing operations without getting caught. Both of them had protested to all of the seemingly unnecessary stealth, but they were quickly quieted when it was both to their attention how well their past attempts at trying to force their way had gone. Neither of them thought fondly of the Doomfist incident and Reaper couldn't stand the fact that Winston had managed to fight him off at Gibraltar. It didn't help either that Talon wasn't exactly eager to make an enemy of an organization as powerful as the Shimada's, at least not yet. Instead Reaper and Widowmaker reluctantly agreed to go undercover as tourists and the two were given details on where to meet with the escort Talon had hired to assist them in breaking into the castle.

A sigh left Reaper's covered mouth as he stared at the mirror above the sink inside of his bathroom. He pulled the mask off of his head and gazed at the face in the mirror looking back at him. Black curls, cut close to his head, brushed along a scar that started on the left side of his forehead and ran through one of his eyebrows, cutting it in half, ending next to his eye. High defined cheekbones made the planes of his face sharp and cruel to some but he still managed to cut a handsome figure, or at the very least he used to. He could have passed for the living from a distance but he knew, and the longer he stared at his own face the more aware of he became of how much he had changed since his death. His skin had grayed from a healthy brown and gave him the complexion of a corpse but the most obvious change were his eyes. Red and unnaturally bright, blood splatter on the wallpaper of his face.

He pushed himself away from the sink and left the bathroom, tossing open his closet when he reached it. A duffel bag flew onto his cot and a handful of civilian clothes followed shortly after. The bag was stuffed and zipped and Reaper paused on the way out of his room, grabbing a black beanie to pull onto his bare head.

Widowmaker was already waiting for him in the hallway dressed in a pair of black slacks and a simple but elegant blouse, her bag slung on her shoulder. Her heels struck the floor as she fell into step next to him and he noticed that she had applied foundation to help mask her unnatural hue. He considered giving that a try next time.

“You ready for our vacation honey?” He asked sarcasm dripping from his rough voice. Widowmaker glanced at him and he could have sworn that he saw the corner of her mouth quirk up in a smirk. Ponytail swinging, she inclined her head slightly to look at him while they walked.

“Oh I could just die from excitement.” Reaper threw his head back and cackled as Widowmaker looked back ahead smirking.

“That was good,” they stepped outside and headed towards the helicopter that sat ready and waiting for the two of them, “I'm impressed.”

“I live to impress.” She managed to earn another snort of amusement from her grumpy companion as they climbed into the helicopter and they settled into the seats, smirks present on both of their faces.

The helicopter flight to the airport was uneventful as was the plane ride on a commercial flight afterwards. Reaper was thankful that Talon had bought them first class tickets, neither he nor Widowmaker would have done well trapped in coach with a screaming child. The plane landed in an airport just outside of Hanamura and Reaper stretched as he departed off the plane behind Widowmaker.

“Where's our escort supposed to be meeting us again?” Reaper stuffed his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, following behind her as she walked into the large sleek building. Around them seemed to be mostly tourists, he figured it wasn't a coincidence that they had been sent during cherry blossom season. It would at least be easier to blend in with all of the tourist there.

“He should be waiting for us outside, he's a mercenary like you, from what I understand he has been paid quite a bit to assist us due to his connection with the Shimada's.” Reaper hummed his acknowledgement and glanced around as they exited the airport squinting against the sun.

“Are you two who I'm waiting for?” Reaper froze surprised that he didn't notice the person lurking by the entrance. Widowmaker whipped her head to the side as Reaper did and they stared down at the shorter man standing next to the door. His face was drawn into a harsh expression and his eyes held the gaze of a man who had killed many and would do what was necessary to accomplish his task.

“That depends,” Widowmaker crossed her arms across her chest and leveled her gaze at him, “are you Hanzo?” At her inquiry the man nodded once and sharply, moving away from them with a quick motion to follow. Hanzo moved rapidly and cut through the crowd with ease guiding them towards a waiting taxi. He said nothing as he climbed into the passenger side of the taxi, Reaper and Widowmaker moved into the back seat.

The driver shifted nervously and peered over at Hanzo, who gave him the destination of the hotel in Japanese, staring sternly ahead as he did. Repear suppressed laughter at how the timid driver scrambled to start the car and take off, obviously uncomfortable by the people in the car. A “yes sir” was stuttered in reply to Hanzo and Reaper noted to himself that he needed to brush up on his Japanese, it had been a while since he needed to speak it.

As they approached their hotel the two in the backseat practically cringed at how bright Hanamura was and the ocean of pink petals waving gently in the wind didn't help. Widowmaker mumbled a swear in French under her breath and reached into a small clutch bag she was carrying with her, removing a pair of sunglasses as they arrived at their destination. The hotel was simple. Traditionally Japanese in appearance, it blended into its surroundings well. A person would have trouble finding it unless they were actively seeking it out. Walking to the counter Hanzo checked them in under their fake names on their IDs given to them for the mission, Amy and Gabe Cross. Reaper was still annoyed over their mission names. Who ever was in charge of distributing those was the most uncreative creature on the plant.

Hanzo tossed them their keys and kept his own moving down the hall without speaking, yet again. Reaper was convinced they had managed to find someone less sociable then he and Widowmaker combined and was impressed in all honesty. The shorter man paused at his room door glancing at his charges.

“We will start observing their new security patterns tonight, they have tightened security considerably since I was last here and you two will need to learn their patterns. We will start small, it will be you and myself tonight.” Hanzo nodded to Widowmaker as he spoke. “I will see you tonight at midnight until then do what you like, I trust you are intelligent enough not to blow your cover.” He walked into his room and shut the door behind him before either of the two in the hall could respond.

“He's friendly.” Reaper mumbled under his breath while he opened the door of the room he and Widowmaker would be sharing. He was again impressed, but a bit annoyed that someone was capable of being more standoffish than himself.

The room was quaint and warm, with sliding doors that opened to a courtyard which held a cherry blossom tree, because of course it did. Reaper was starting to hate these damn flowers. He turned his attention to the bags already laying on the two beds in the room and dropped his luggage in a chair before moving to open one of them. Inside lay his field gear and his shotguns, he zipped the bag shut and glanced up at Widowmaker heading for the door.

“Where you headed?”

“I am going to go on one of the tours they offer to tourists of Shimada Castle. I would like to know at least a bit of what I am working with.” She walked out after speaking and Reaper shrugged, laying back on his bed to stare at the ceiling. The last time he was here Jesse was so excited about those stupid trees. They had gone to intercept a shipment of weapons to the Shimada clan and Jeese refused to get any sleep before the mission, claiming to be too excited.

“Naw, you don't just go to Japan and not look at the trees! You gotta it's practically required.” He had said that like he was some expert in the country and Reaper, Gabriel, caved taking McCree to look at the trees. He was still alive then, he was still Gabriel on that mission. Reaper quickly climbed to his feet refusing to be left alone with his depressing thoughts. He'd go view the damned cherry blossoms before he'd suffer through himself.

He locked the room door behind him and his long strides quickly carried him out of the building. The street was crowded with tourists oohing and ahhing over the flowers dancing through the wind and Reaper weaved through them with ease until he managed to find a less crowded area a few blocks away from his hotel. He rolled his shoulders with a sigh and found an empty bench to sit on staring out at the pink clusters, refusing to think.

Movement drew his attention and Reaper flicked his eyes to glance in the direction of it. His eyes widened at what he saw and he was sure that if his heart was still beating it would have stopped for a moment. Against one of the trees, with a cigarette hanging loosely from his mouth and dressed in a flannel shirt and a pair of rough jeans, McCree stood leaning on the bark for support. Reaper rubbed at his eyes and returned his gaze back to McCree, confirming that he was indeed standing there. Reaper moved to stand and took a step towards the other man, who turned his lazy gaze forward and they made eye contact. McCree froze when he eyes landed on Reaper. A bitter feeling of satisfaction rose in Reaper when he saw fear flashover McCree's face but he frowned when the cowboy's face settled on confusion and bewilderment. McCree took a few hesitant steps forward a shaky hand outstretched and Reaper was startled as he saw McCree's mouth form the name “Gabe.” A simple observation about the situation forced its way into Reaper's thoughts.

He wasn't wearing his mask.

Reaper took off, sprinting full speed around tourists and away from McCree. Turning down a deserted street, ignoring the cries behind him begging him to stop. His forced his body to dematerialize and drifted his form into the shadows, watching as McCree sprinted by shortly after with desperation etched on his features. Reaper waited a few moments after his passing before turning and running back the way he came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gabe chill.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all, just letting everyone know each chapter will switch focus between McCree and Reaper

McCree stumbled as he rounded the corner of the empty street. Gaze desperate, his eyes tried to find Gabriel's figure. That was him, it couldn't have been anyone else, not the man who had become the stuff of nightmares slaughtering any in his way and stealing lives. No this was the man who had offered McCree a second chance, the man he loved that gave him a place to belong and a family. McCree's eyes looked to the rooftops and when they found nothing he felt his shoulders slump. Turning back the way he came he began a solemn trek back to the hotel room he was sharing with Tracer and Genji.

The three of them had been dispatched by Winston after Genji had informed Winston on a lead the ninja had received from what he called “a trusted source” on Talon activity. Talon was apparently intending to break into the Shimada compound and steal all of their operations intel. While normally McCree would have been all for baddies pissing off each other, Winston pointed out that should Talon get enough dirt on the Shimada's to bend them to their will that would be a worse case scenario for everyone not just Overwatch. Winston organized for a small strike team to travel to Hanamura and prevent any of Talon's plans for succeeding. Genji was a given for the team being that he was the one with the source and Hanamura had been his home. Tracer was chosen next because if anyone other then the ninja wasn't going to be seen it on this mission it was her. McCree had volunteered, in truth he just wanted to stay too busy to think about what had happened a week ago but if he could help out Overwatch while doing it then it was a win win. 76 had protested immediately when the cowboy's hand went into the air.

“I'll go. They don't have anyone that can heal them anyway, Jesse should stay here.” 76's rough tone offered no room for an argument but Winston pointed out that 76, Reinhardt, Pharah, and Mercy were supposed to be deployed in 3 days to follow up rumors regarding Ana Amari. 76 tensed when this was pointed out but said nothing in argument as he leaned back in his chair arms crossed.

“I am also concerned about a lack of a healer, maybe Zenyatta can go since I am unable.” Mercy glanced over at the Omnic but Genji quickly silenced the idea.

“No,” he had spoken before Zenyatta could speak, “Master is a valuable asset to us and I would be eager to have him by my side in any other circumstances, but it would be unwise to send him with us on this mission, his skills are not suited for subtlety.” Mercy blinked once in surprise before a soft smile touched her lips and she nodded in agreement. McCree suspected there was more to Genji's reasoning other then Zenyatta being a floating night light but he would tease his friend about that later.

“I can handle myself everyone last time I checked and if everything goes right then we won't need no heals we'll be fine.” McCree tugged his boots off of the table, spurs jingling, and sat up in his chair. “We got this.”

It didn't take long for the group to come into agreement afterwards and soon the three of them were packed and ready. They boarded the plane coach and McCree and Genji tried their best to ignore Tracer embroiled in a seat kicking war with a kid on the plane. The two of them at the least mutually agreed it was cheating to blink around a plane and kick someone's seat without being seen. Winston had arranged for a hotel room for them but they had to share one due to Overwatch not exactly having a surplus of funds. McCree, Genji, and Tracer didn't mind in the least and the thing first the ever giggling Tracer did when they entered the room was start a pillow fight.

McCree had slipped out the moment Genji began to wall climb to avoid pillows and made his way onto the street. He couldn't help the way his face lit up when he finally got a good look at the pink trees and he made his way lazily down the street admiring them. It had been a while since he had gone to Japan and the last time he got to go cherry blossom viewing was with-.

He forced his thoughts away from Gabriel refusing to continue entertaining those thoughts. After all the man he loved was dead and sitting on a bench across from where he leaned on a tree. McCree's eyes widened in shock as they settled on Gabriel not Reaper sitting staring back at him. Dressed in an old band shirt underneath a black hoodie and jeans, with a beanie tugged snuggly on his head there was no one that could have been but Gabe. As he started towards him, Gabriel took off and sprinted away from him causing McCree to stumbled after him forcing his way through the tourists.

He had lost him in the chase and was now trudging back, calling his sanity into question. Maybe Reaper was here and maybe he was still Gabriel underneath all of the smoke of hatred that seemed to make him up. There was also the chance that McCree was starting to lose his mind behind Gabriel. He really hoped that wasn't the case. Opening the door to the hotel room, McCree jumped as a pillow his him square in the face and snorted behind it when Tracer began to giggle.

“Told ya I'd get him!” Genji looked from where he sat cross legged on the other bed, a handheld he had borrowed from D.va in his hands.

“Welcome back McCree, I was just about to take Tracer out to show her around Hanamura would like to come?” McCree flung the pillow back at Tracer, who ducked to dodge it, while Genji spoke.

“Yeah big guy come with us!” Tracer exclaimed, hopping to her feet as McCree flopped on the bed next to Genji.

“That depends, Genji you gonna wear that tacky sweater Zenyatta got you? The one with the peace sign?”

“Why would I not wear that? It's my favorite sweater.” Genji replied to McCree's question, earning a snort from the cowboy.

“Well that settles that, y'all have fun now bring me back some sake. I'll stay here and get a nap in.” McCree gave a lazy wave as they headed for the door and kicked his boots off. “Have fun y'all.” He watched the door close and gave a long heavy sigh to the empty room once he was alone. McCree wasn't sure how much longer he could keep doing this. He pulled his hat over his face shortly his teammates left and drifted to sleep, thoughts of Gabriel on the edge of his mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

McCree awoke hot, blinking against the darkness of the room. He shifted and his back sticky with sweat peeled away from the blankets, his shirt plastered to his form. His fingers made quick work of buttons of the damp fabric and he flung the offending piece of clothing across the room, where it landed on the desk in the hotel room with a wet smack. His legs swung off of the bed and his gaze moved to the harsh red light of the clock on the end table between the beds.

“1:46am” McCree blinked at the numbers and reached out to turn on the lamp. He flinched against the sudden light and glanced around the room for his teammates, finding it empty. The twang of a guitar echoed through the room suddenly and McCree dug into the pocket of his jeans to retrieve his phone. The thin piece of glass lit up in his palm and he typed in “Bessie” when promoted for a password. He had thought about changing his password but no one had guessed yet. It surprised him how those close to him never thought to try the name of his hat. D.va couldn't even guess it and she had broken into almost everyone's phones.

His eyes settled on the two text messages he had received, one from Tracer and one from Genji. The first message was from Tracer and was filled with photos she had taken and excited ramblings about Hanamura. The next text, from Genji, had just been sent and contained a video of Tracer embroiled in a karaoke contest dancing on a bar. Genji had expressed that they would be back as soon as Tracer was done and that they shouldn't be any later than three. McCree couldn't help the smile on his face and put his phone away. Sure they were there on a mission but until Genji's contact approached them they just needed to keep to themselves and not make to much of a commotion. They had been going on mission's almost nonstop as of late trying to interfere with whatever Talon was planning, so McCree didn't blame Tracer for using the bit of downtime they had to enjoy herself before shit hit the fan. Thumbing moving across the screen, McCree texted Genji back “Enjoy ya selves” and made his way to his dufflebag to find a new shirt.

He tugged it on and snatched up his room key, leaving the hotel. He was eager to be outside after the way he had awoken. The night air was warm but felt good on his face and he took a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air. His feet began to carry him with no direction in mind and before he knew it he was standing back at patch of trees where he had saw Gabriel earlier. His eyes moved to the tree he was standing against earlier and McCree's chest tightened as he caught sight of the broad back clad in black leaning against the bark. Steps hesitant, he approached like one would a feral cat, stance wide and cautious. He frozen when the figure's head turned to look over its shoulder at McCree but relaxed when the other man looked forward again. McCree stopped an arm's length away and stood there for a moment not saying anything prompting harsh chuckles from in front of him.

“You since when did you hesitate Jesse?” McCree's name sounded almost as rough leaving his lips as it did in the alley that night.

“Gabe?”

“No one's called me that in a long time Jesse, not even Morrison.” McCree couldn't help the relief flooding through his chest, Gabriel was still alive he was still in there, maybe he could still get help. “You know,” he was taken off guard as Gabriel turned to face him with a sneer on his face, “you weren't this happy to see me last time with met. When Morrison had to come to your rescue.” It felt like the carpet had been ripped out from under McCree and he stuttered trying to get his words together.

“T-that's not you Gabe. You wouldn't-”

“I wouldn't what?!” Gabriel roared rounding on McCree. McCree found himself slammed against the the tree and his eyes widened as he stared into Gabriel's unnaturally red ones. “Huh?! How do you know what I would and wouldn't do?! You left me! You sided with Morrison! You wouldn't even leave him for me when I asked!” McCree was left speechless until rage began to bubble in his chest. He shoved the other man back and stomped towards him.

“I loved you! I would have done anything for you! The man I loved though, he ain't never would have done nothin like that!” McCree's palm connected with Gabriel's chest and he shoved him back again. “You betrayed ME! You said you were gonna make things better for us!” All of the buried feelings from that moment years ago boiled to the surface and McCree felt tears burning his eyes. “I buried you! I thought you were dead because of some grudge. Some grudge that was more important to you than me!” An ugly sob escaped his mouth and McCree pressed the back of his hand to his lips in an attempt to quiet himself. Gabriel stormed forward, grabbing McCree by the shoulder, and slammed him back into the tree.

“I'm still the same damn person Jesse.” Gabriel growled. “I never left.” He forced McCree's hand away from his mouth and crushed their lips together. McCree's eyes widened with the contact but relaxed almost instantly, parting his lips for Gabriel's hot and eager tongue. A needy sound left his captured mouth and McCree ground his hips up against Gabriel eager for more contact. They broke away panting, foreheads together and Gabriel traced his thumb along McCree's bearded jaw.

“I need you Jesse.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They gon fuck


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. . .It's been a while to say the least and this is a short chapter but this is not abandoned and I finally fixed my old laptop and recovered this story, so yeah. We back in this bitch.

Gabriel smirked when McCree's knees went weak at his confession and watched as McCree raised his gaze up towards hungry eyes and nodded in response.

“I need you too.” A small noise of surprise left McCree's mouth as Gabe's hands gripped the side of his face and McCree was pulled forward into another crushing kiss. He felt McCree's hands grip the back of his hoodie and Gabriel tugged him backwards, opening up a swirling vortex on the ground behind them. McCree's eyes widened when their feet didn't hit the ground and Gabriel felt him push against his broad chest in a panic. Darkness enveloped the two of them and Gabriel hid the younger man's face in his chest as they lurched through the shadows.

The world spun and turned, jolting to a stop and McCree broke away from Gabriel's embrace. He watched McCree glance slowly around Gabriel's hotel room, steadying himself on a nearby wall. He made his way to McCree's side after a few moments and Gabriel chuckled when he jumped at his hand touching his shoulder.

“The first trip is the worst, you alright kid?” McCree gave Gabriel a shaky smile as he spoke and gently shook the hand off, turning to face him.

“I ain't been a kid in while, old man.” Gabriel grunted as McCree pressed his chest flush to his own after speaking and his hands sought the cowboy's ass giving it a firm squeeze.

“Is that so?” His lips returned to McCree's and their tongues tangled together as Gabriel pushed McCree back onto the bed. His hands gripped McCree's shirt and he tore it open, a smile of satisfaction touching his face as the buttons popped. McCree opened his mouth to complain but a noise of surprise left him as Gabriel's mouth fell on his chest, biting gently. McCree couldn't help the needy noises that left him and he gripped Gabriel's shoulders as his lover's hand traveled south. Gabriel's fingers did quick work of McCree's obnoxious belt and he reached down the front of his pants, palming McCree's hard cock through the fabric of his boxers before tugging him free.

Rough fingers squeezing his shaft, Gabriel watched McCree arch off the bed. McCree's hips ground eagerly upward into his hand and Gabriel stroked him, mouth moving to bite and suck along McCree's shoulder. A grunt escaped Gabriel's mouth where it was buried in McCree's throat as McCree pressed his knee against his hard member trapped in his jeans and Gabriel pressed his thumb down on the head of McCree's dick, smearing the precum.

“You miss me that badly?” Gabriel questioned as he pushed his crotch firmly against McCree's knee. To answer his question McCree turned his head and returned his tongue to the inside of Gabriel's mouth. Their tongues tangled briefly before Gabriel pulled away, slipping off the bed to go dig through his luggage on the floor nearby. McCree sat up to watch as Gabriel came swaying back, peeling off his faded band tee on the way a bottle of lube in his hands. As soon as he returned to the bed McCree's hand shot out, startling Gabriel, and tugged away his beanie. Gabriel blinked, surprised, as his short black curls were let free, and a rough chuckle left the older man's mouth after a moment or two of shocked silence. He coated two of his fingers in lube smirking down at the mischievous man beneath him. “You ready?”

McCree's pants hit the floor in response and Gabriel dropped his head, smirking. His slick fingers pushed into McCree's entrance and he filled his mouth with McCree's throbbing member enticing a gasp and the arch of a back. McCree's fingers tangled in his curls and he moaned, low and long, as Gabriel’s head bobbed, tongue rolling over his dick while his fingers pressed and prodded inside his tight hole.

A second finger joined the first and Gabriel buried both inside McCree to the knuckle. A needy whine left McCree's lips as the fingers inside of him began to scissor him open. Gabriel glanced up as McCree yanked his hair to get his attention and he sat up, cock popping out of his mouth wetly. A smirk played at Gabriel's lips as he caught sight of McCree's needy gaze and flushed face.

“I need you Gabe.”

Gabriel could be called many things but he couldn’t be called a many who denied his lovers. Fingers sliding free of McCree’s ass, his hands moved to his jeans and he sprung free of his jeans with a small noise of relief as he escaped the confining prison of his jeans. His smirk returned as he caught McCree gazing at his eager swollen cock. “You still want this?” Gabriel wouldn’t admit to the vulnerability the had slipped into his voice but he knew it was there from the way McCree’s eyes softened.

“You ready to save a horse?” McCree grinned as an ugly laugh left Gabriel's lips.

“Don’t you ever say that to me again.” Chuckling he knelt between McCree’s parted thighs and lined himself up with McCree’s tight hole, taking a moment to massage the lube over himself. McCree’s smart comment died on his lips, replaced by a gasp as Gabriel's cock worked him open pushing inside his tight ring of muscle. His legs wound round Gabriel’s hips, crossing his ankles in the small of his back, pulling him deeper inside of him. Gabriel groaned a noise caught between a growl and a moan as he rolled his hips sheathing himself completely inside McCree.

They moved fast and hard with one another, Gabriel’s hands squeezing McCree’s hips with bruising force as he pulled his sweaty desperate form down on his cock. Pants and moans filled the room growing louder with each thrust and clench before joining together as they came with each other. 

Gabriel pressed his lips to Jesse’s earning a happy sigh from him.

“That. . .that was nice” McCree drawled dazed, eyes blinking, slow and content. This was a mistake. Gabriel knew McCree, if he hadn’t joined him before, he wasn’t going to abandon those bastards now. They would part after this and meet again in a gunfight, all this did was make it harder to pull the trigger later. He watched as McCree rolled into his chest and rubbed his beard against him like a cat. Gabriel’s hand tangled in McCree’s sweaty locks and a small smile touched his lips. This may have been a mistake but for now he was going to enjoy every second of it.


End file.
